Venator
by KillJoy-Soviet1
Summary: My Latin Project I did, which is based around the Mojave Wasteland and Caesars' Legion. Enjoy! ONESHOT


Kennedy

"_My Legion obeys me, even unto death. Why? Because they live to serve the greater good, and they know of no alternatives."_

_~ Edward Sallow (Caesar) _

The fire crackled in the dark, sending glowing hot embers unto the sky, as eight darkened figures sat lazily around it. They all wore improvised body armor, fashioned from pre-War football gear, mainly protective shoulder pads and chest pads which are reinforced with leather, and worn over a baseball catchers' vest, with skirt-like lower apparels; all of which were painted murky brown and bloodied red. Seven of the figures wore pre-War goggles underneath bandanas covering their faces, while the eighth had his helmet sitting on the desert ground next to him. He was about 5'11, had dirty, chestnut brown hair which was combed back, falling off his forehead, and had lime green eyes. He glanced at the seven figures sitting in front of him, and coughed quietly.

The vast, desert wasteland ground that the eight sat on was none other than the Mojave Wasteland; a vast, clean land which was untouched by the atomic fire that came over two centuries ago. This land was the Legion's soon-to-be new conquest, this and the city of lights several _milliaria_ away, called New Vegas by the local tribes and degenerates whom gambled there. After _Caesar_ took New Vegas, the Legion, _Caesar's _army, would take the NCR, or the New Californian Republic.

'Heh,' the figure thought, 'there's nothing new about it! _Odium __parit__ bello_, _bellum parit odium_.'

The figure's clothing was a darker red then that of the recruits, as he was signified as a _Centurion_, meaning he had roughly around a _cohort_ of five hundred Legionaries under his command, and all of them would listen to him. His name was_ Venator in Atomicus Hiems_, although he was usually referred to as "Venator", and he has served in the Legion from after his tribe was assimilated into the Legion in 2278. He was once a young boy, born in 2263 a member of the _Nemorumque_ _Venantium_, or "Woodland Hunters", whom once inhabited the great lands of Arizona, and hunted the mutated creatures there; having gained his name in the atomic winter of 2270 after he killed a Yuo Guai, (the mutated descendent of the North American Black Bear) armed with a simple machete gladius. He was given his name after the Legionaries who assimilated the camp learnt of his victory, calling him the "Hunter of the Atomic Winter", and he was conscripted into the Legion, earning his rank of _Centurion_ after he was challenged by _Maximus Amicus_, whom didn't believe the tale surrounding him, and was promptly killed in single combat in the arena with the Lord _Caesar_ Himself watching.

And so here he was, leading a group of seven recruits to scout out the NCR's defenses for the new attack on the Hoover Dam, as per _Caesar_'s orders. In other words, a simple teaching mission to teach these new recruits how to actually scout.

Venator sighed, before noticing the sunrise. He turned to the other Legionaries as he doused the campfire, "Alright, listen up," he muttered quietly, "Lord _Caesar_ has ordered me, along with the seven of you, to scout out the degenerates defensive locations before the battle begins tomorrow. He ordered me to do so, so we will not have the same problem that the _Malpais Legate_ did when he tried to take Hoover Dam several years ago."

There was a small silence, as the recruits nodded at his words, and he continued on.

"Our objective is to arrive at a small ledge, overlooking the Hoover Dam, and from there we will just scout out the opposition."

"Why aren't we just going in and killing them while they sleep?"

This came from the youngest Legion member, Claudius, whose brother was an outstanding _centurion_, and father being one of _Caesar_s _Praetorio_ guards. He was nothing special, as he was scrawny and weak, but chose to prove himself by taking the ears of his enemies as proof of his kills.

"_Inops_, _si_ _quidem_ _nos_ _ante_ _interficiat_ _nos_ _accedentibus_!" Venator hissed, "Your idea of a charge would slaughter all of us, and alert the degenerates to Lord _Caesar_'s plan! If we escape, then the Lord would put us to death for cowardice! We go with the plan we have, now let's go."

By the time the squad got to their designated point, the sun was already high in the sky, beating down on them as they hid in the sparse foliage along the canyon. Across the river, Venator could see the _Auxilia_, made of the slaves of conquest and roughly 125,000 of them, in 250 _cohorts_, standing in front of the _Legionaries_ themselves, roughly around five times that amount in armed soldiers. All of them were armed with steel broadswords and had been fitted with leather armor overtop of their regular armor, giving them added protection against the NCR's rifles.

The NCR's camp on this side of the Colorado was sparsely set up, and NCR Power Armor soldiers were training with attack robots, and off to the side were several artillery guns, pointing at Fortification Hill, across the Colorado.

Venator cursed, while the NCR was at least 40,000 strong, they had pre-War technology on their hands to utilize, while the _Auxilia _had only little to no armor and spears, with the _Legionaries_ having heavy armor and hunting rifles along with _gladius'_.

"If we charge them now, we can surprise them and kill a few, maybe even disable the guns."

Venator sighed, before muttering out to Claudius, "You only care about honor don't you? You will gain no standing in the Legion if you do that. But be my guest if you want to get yourself killed. _Militibus_, we're heading back to Cottonwood Cove, we have our intel. Claudius, you can kill yourself if you wish, Lord _Caesar_ would care less."

With that, the scouting party quietly left the area of the NCR's camp, heading south towards Cottonwood Cove, while Claudius was left crouched in the desert sand, staring longingly at the camp, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade…

It took a day's walk across the Mojave to reach Cottonwood, but the Legionaries made it in only half. They reached the Legion's encampment on top of Fortification Hill as nightfall hit, and Venator dismissed the six recruits, as Claudius had been left behind. Venator was to report his findings personally to _Caesar_ Himself.

_Caesar_'s tent overlooked the arena, where He had first taken an interest in Venator, and now He had to report to Him. _Caesar_ was viewed as a God, as He had, single-handedly, unified eighty-six tribes under one banner, and planned to unify the whole American Wasteland under His rule. 'It was a worthy goal,' Venator mused as he passed by slave-families, and trainees preparing for the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, 'However, what will happen once _Caesar_ dies? Will the Legion descend unto warring states, as the original Roman Empire had? _Bellum_ _non_ _mutat_, _facit_ _illud_?'

Upon reaching the tent, Venator was immediately flanked by two of the _Praetorion_ guards, and he was brought before a throne made of solid gold, covered in expensive Wasteland furs, such as You Guai, Deathclaw, and Nightstalker fur, and sitting on those furs, was a middle-aged man, with greyed, nearly gone hair, and an aristocratic figure. He wore regal purple robes, with golden trimmings, and a wreath of gold olive leaves around his head.

Venator immediately got on one knee, bowing, and greeted his Lord. "_Salve_, _Dominus Caesar_, I have arrived with the reports on the degenerates forces. They are roughly around 40,000 strong, and are equipped with rifles and knives. They have heavy-armored units and artillery in support as well my liege."

_Caesar_ nodded, before replying, his voice one holding a regal tone, much like the rest of the Senate back in Flagstaff. "Very well, you shall be joining the rest of the attack on the Dam tomorrow, and if you succeed, I will raise your status among your peers higher. Fail me, and it will be your head on a pike."

"Very well my liege."

And with that, Venator was escorted out of _Caesar_s' tent.

Venator looked upon the _cohort_ under his control, and sighed. He knew he could very well be sending these poor men to their deaths. 'For the Greater Good of the Legion,' he mused, his left hand dancing along his blades hilt. Most of the men in his _cohort_ were veterans of past battles; Yonkers, the Mississippi Landing et cetera. They had seen death, and were once under the _Malpais Legate's_ command. Now they were under his, and he'd be damned if he let any of them be killed. He fingered the talisman that was underneath his armor anxiously.

This talisman, made from the tooth of a Yuo Guai, was the last reminder of his clan, and family; now scattered across the Legion and few in the army. He was one. His tribe had only one major rule that you had to follow with your life: Never leave your comrades on the battlefield. And he would be damned sure he wouldn't leave any enemies alive either…

He glanced over at the _Legate _Lanius, a hulking beast of a man whom stood at 6'11, and wore a full-body suit of steel, a mask fashioned in the likeness of the ancient Mithras, and a large iron sword, christened 'The Sword of the East', was strapped across his back. He would give the order to charge the dam, and push the degenerates across the Colorado.

The Legate stood taller as one of the_ Praetorion_ stood beside him, and handed him a scroll. Lanius nodded at him, before motioning for the Legion to commence its assault, large cracks coming from the guns on Fortification Hill sounding the attack.

Venator turned to his men, nodded, and followed suit, heading for their objective.

"So what are orders, _Centurion_ Venator?"

"Our orders are simple," he muttered, scanning the dam for NCR hostiles, "We are to capture and hold the NCR defensive point, located at the Gift Shop, on the other side."

"That's a long way from here _Centurion_," the same soldier murmured, "I'd expect a lot of resistance…"

"So will I, and you are?"

"Ahm, Lanuis Severus sir."

"Well, stick close than Severus, and we'll make it through this."

The _cohort_ silently made its way across the top of the dam, not stopping once until the sound of shrieking became apparent. The Legionaries scattered, as the pavement in front of them exploded, before more shrieks were heard. 'Artillery,' was the one thought that crossed Venators mind, before he hid behind an overturned car, and turning his gaze to the encampment; just before it exploded into a ball of flames.

'Claudius… Looks like you were honorable after all…'

With that, Venator jumped out of cover and decapitated the nearest enemy soldier, and used his corpse as a meat-shield, absorbing enemy bullets with their dead comrade. Reaching the next cover, he dropped the cadaver and murmured, "_Mortuus est_."

His comrades fell into rank behind him as they marched towards the enemy positions at the middle of the dam, where multiple sandbags and soldiers were waiting. Severus stood beside him as they marched calmly, and asked "We are halfway the, aren't we _dominus_?"

Venator nodded calmly, wiping the blood of his fallen enemies off of his blade and onto his tunic, before twirling the blade in his hand and whipping it forward, throwing it at the enemy lines.

There was a scream of pain as the blade impaled a soldier in the chest, before the enemies opened fire on the Legionaries, prompting them to charge as their comrades began to fall around them. Venator cursed as he took a round to his left shoulder, and accepted a blade from Severus, who had been carrying two gladius'. The two of them jumped over the sandbag wall, stabbing and slashing any foes that got close to them, even resorting to using the enemy rifle to take out long-range targets.

Before leaving the sight of that bloodbath, Venator retrieved his blade from the dead soldier, throwing the other one back to Severus before asking him a question as they and the rest of the _cohort_ jogged to the next line of enemy defenses.

"Severus, are you called anything in titles?"

Severus nodded, swirling his blades around in each hand, before replying, "_Archangelus Belli_, the title _Caesar_ and the _Malpais Legate_ gave to me after the First Battle of Hoover Dam."

"I see."

Nothing more was said as they engaged the next line of defense, brutally and swiftly ending their opponents in less than a minute, some of the younger recruits grabbing the enemy rifles as their blades broke. Eventually, the _cohort_ reached the last line of defense before the enemy HQ, and this was a wall of Power Armored Heavy units, loaded up with miniguns and rocket launchers. The two groups stood across from each other, before Venator and Severus both held out their blades, tips pointing at the sky, and yelled at the top of their lungs before charging along with the remainder of the _cohort_. The air was filled with the yells of Legionaries, and the sound of winding up miniguns, as Venator reached his first target. He plunged his gladius into the eye slot of the enemy's helmet, a spurt of blood spraying across his face as he yanked the blade out, cutting off another's arm in one downward swing from his shoulder to his armpit. Another spurt of blood and he grunted as a bullet tore through his stomach, leg and hand, as he dug the blade into the waist of another enemy, bisecting him at the stomach. This continued on for several minutes, the screams of dying friends and enemies alike become background noises to the sound of metal through flesh, gunfire, and the spurting of blood.

Venator was hit several more times by enemy fire in the chest, and all the fingers on his left hand were blown off by a fragmentation grenade, as he was soon drenched in blood; his own, and the blood of his enemies. Eventually, the fighting died down and Venator was left standing amidst the blood and carnage, panting in shallow breaths as the adrenaline of the battle wore off. He sat down on the pile of bodies that had accumulated beneath him, and stabbed his blade, his ever-so trusty blade, into the mound of flesh, as Severus walked up to him, missing an eye, and heavy burns across the left side of his body.

He sat down next to Venator, whom chuckled and asked "Ran into _flammam_ _praestrigiator_ did you?"

Severus nodded, before taking in Venator's own state, before speaking. "You don't look too good yourself, _amicus_. Missing fingers, multiple wounds… How're you still standing? _Aut aliquid tibi divinius_?"

"So they say…"

"Are you going to make it Venator?"

"No."

"Ah…"

Silence surrounded them, as the other members of their _cohort_ mopped up the dead, and Severus turned to Venator. Venator gave him a look, before sliding his blade out of the cadavers next to him and handed the sword to Severus.

"Here…"

"What are you-"

"Take it… My time… has past… Use it well… and lead these men… _fraters_… _et deducet eos ad salutem_…" His eyelids, caked in dried blood, drooped slightly as he leaned against Severus for support. "… Stay true… Remember your heritage… _Archangelus_… _Belli_… _bene_…"

His body shuddered as it took its last breath, and his eyes closed one last time.

Severus closed his eye and bowed his head in respect, before taking the machete gladius from his hand and sheathing it. He picked up Venator's body with a great deal of pain, hissing, and brought it before the _cohort_, who were all bowed in shame. A warrior had passed, and Severus was left with the pieces.

As he laid the body on the ground at _Caesar_ and Lanius' feet later that evening, he spoke only one sentence, as he laid a cross across his chest.

"_Bellum_… _Bellum_ _numquam_ _mutatur_..."

War… War never changes…


End file.
